


From Nowhere

by Revasnaslan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Pining, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 12:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17059601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Revasnaslan/pseuds/Revasnaslan
Summary: Ulaz is a healer who didn't think anything exciting was going to happen in his life. Then, he has a chance encounter with some guy in a mask.





	From Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> This was my fic for the Timelines AU Zine!! :D We were finally given permission to post our pieces. I did a Thulaz Fantasy AU :3

“I already paid you this week!” Ulaz snapped as he glared down at the city guard who had come to collect his taxes. He could have sworn that the taxes had only been raised a month ago—surely Emperor Zarkon hadn’t already raised them  _ again _ ?

If the guard standing in front of him was intimidated, they didn’t let it show. “Well, like it or not, the tax was just raised,” they said, and while they were clearly trying to remain calm, there was a threatening edge to their voice. “I am sure you are aware of the penalty if you  _ don’t _ pay, Master vas Taelan?”

Ulaz opened his mouth to argue—because this was  _ ridiculous _ , when he was already paying well over half his weekly earnings—but he caught his tongue. He couldn’t end up in jail over some coin. Not after he and his mothers had worked so hard to keep this shop afloat for years until both his mothers had been pulled out onto the battlefields. Ulaz gritted his teeth as he turned away from the guard, and it was with a heavy heart that he pulled out the lockbox from beneath the counter and emptied it to meet the guard’s demands.

If the guard said anything before they left, Ulaz ignored it. Instead of dwelling on the heavy feeling in his chest, he turned back to the potion he had been making before the guard had so rudely interrupted him. He had recently gotten an order for a dozen healing tonics, and he needed to have it filled before the customer came back for them—he only had two more to go.

Then, someone cleared their throat, and Ulaz jumped, nearly spilling the half-ground herbs onto the floor. He hadn’t heard the door open—had he overlooked a customer?

“Sorry, did I scare you?” The man standing on the other side of the counter appeared concerned. His ears pinned back, twitching as his fur fluffed up in embarrassment. “I didn’t want to interrupt the guard—”

“It’s fine,” Ulaz said, peering at the man curiously. Ulaz had never seen him in town before, and most of the Galra around these parts were sleek furred—a traveler? They tended to be easier to deal with than the townspeople, at any rate, assuming they didn’t come from the capital. But, then again, more wealthy travelers never gave his shop a glance. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he finally asked.

The man shook his head. “I still have a couple days’ journey ahead of me,” he said, smiling easily as he tilted his head to the side. “Do you have any stamina tonics?”

Ulaz’s ears flicked curiously. “Where are you from, then?” he asked, turning from the counter to check his stores. He knew he had  _ some _ stamina tonics, but most of them would be going to the city guard, whenever they decided to come breaking down his door because they needed them. The city guard was not known for their patience.

The man hesitated for half a moment. “Nowhere.”

Ulaz wasn’t surprised that this traveler was remaining vague—most did, and it wasn’t his business anyway. “Well, we’ve got nothing out here except for Lord Prorok’s estate,” he said, snagging two of the strength tonics from the shelf and bringing them back over to the counter. “Or some small farms, if you’re looking for some work.”

“No, that’s alright,” the man said hastily. “I’m just passing through.” His fluffy ears had pinned back slightly—not enough for it to be particularly noticeable, and if Ulaz had been across the room, he likely wouldn’t have. “How much for the tonics?” he continued, motioning to the bottles with a jerk of his head.

“Ten GAC each,” Ulaz said automatically. He was prepared to defend his pricing, too, since people in this town always seemed keen on fighting him on it, but the man just set down a small sack of coins.

“Thanks,” he said, smiling again. “Keep the change.” And then he was gone, disappearing into the streets in the dimming light. The door slammed behind him.

Ulaz tilted his head to the side, peering curiously at the sack of coins. Upon emptying it onto the counter, he found there were  _ far _ more coins there than there should have been. However, when he opened the door to his shop, intending to give some of them back, all he saw was the rain and gloom of a cool evening. There was no sign of the man anywhere. Across the street from him, walking along the high brick wall and hidden underneath the leaves of the trees, was a small purplish cat. It had a bushy tail and extremely fluffy ears with light purple stripes along the inner edges. As if it noticed it was being watched, the cat paused, peering at him with bright yellow eyes.

Then, the cat bounded away, disappearing up along one of the walls of the inn, and into a window that had been left cracked open enough for it to slip through.

—

It was later that night, after Ulaz had closed down the shop and turned in, that there was a loud crash—the sound of glass shattering as a window was smashed in. Ulaz woke abruptly, sitting up in bed as fire came to life at his fingertips. As his heart pounded in his chest, he stayed still, listening for any signs of intruders. The sound had sounded too close to have come from downstairs, which was… odd. He was not a rich man, and he didn’t have much in the way of personal possessions—especially not ones that were worth anything—but he kept the lockbox downstairs at night, hidden amongst the clutter of herbs and incense, concealed by an illusion charm.

A low groan came from his living area, beyond the curtain Ulaz kept over the door frame to his bedroom. Whoever had broken into his house sounded like they were in a lot of pain.

Slowly, he got out bed, maintaining the fire in his hand as his eyes began glowing a brighter yellow. It was a necessary precaution, should this intruder be intending to fight him. His movements were slow and controlled to avoid causing the floorboards to creak. Without any kind of armor on, he didn’t want to startle the intruder or give them a reason to attack him. Carefully, he poked his head out of his bedroom and peered into the darkness of the living area.

One of his windows had been smashed to smithereens and broken glass was strewn across the floor, catching the moonlight that filtered into the room. A body was half hidden behind his table, and at first Ulaz thought that the person was dead. Then, their foot gave a twitch and they tried to push themselves up again while holding one hand against their side. Their breathing was ragged as they gritted their teeth and tried to soldier through the pain. Ulaz was frozen in place as he tried to make a decision—as a trained healer, he was in the position to  _ help _ this person. He was beginning to doubt that they were a burglar…

“Hello?” he tried—taking a couple of steps closer to the intruder. “Are you alright?”

The person gave a jerk, scrambling to crouch on their feet as they grabbed their weapon—an intricate blade made of some kind of purplish-black metal—and held it out in front of them. As they moved, they let out a pained noise in the back of their throat. Blood was soaking through the gaps in their leather armor, running down their side and leaving a small pool on the floor. The purple coloration gave away that this person was Galra, like Ulaz himself. He wouldn’t have been able to tell otherwise, as this person’s face was obscured by their hood and the mask that covered the lower portion of their face. Only the glow of their eyes could be made out in the darkness.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Ulaz assured them, crouching down so that the two of them were eye-level with one another. The fire in his palm dimmed to be little more than the size of a candle flame. “Though I really  _ should _ , considering you broke my window and got blood on my floor—”

He cut off when the person adjusted their grip on their weapon, reversing it. However, their balance faltered a moment later and they swayed, leaning heavily against one of the chairs.

“See? You’re in no position to fight me,” Ulaz continued, inching closer. “I’m a healer… I can help you, if you would just let me.”

The other person hesitated, before sighing. They held out the hilt of their weapon towards Ulaz. It was a show of compliance, and one of trust, even if the trust would be meager. Ulaz took the weapon when it was offered, and set it down on the table before he took hold of the person’s arm and threw it over his shoulder. Then, he helped the person over to the far wall of his living space, where they would be able to lean while he looked over their wound. He could let them sit somewhere more comfortable when they weren’t gushing blood.

Ulaz gently moved shredded leather armor to the side as best as he could. It looked like a stab wound, made worse by falling through the window like this person had. Magic hummed at his fingertips as he reached out to better survey the internal damage. The wound wasn’t  _ that _ deep, so the weapon that had inflicted it was more likely to have been a dagger than a sword. Judging by the shape of the wound, a guard had done it. That was unsurprising too.

Ulaz knew that he shouldn’t be doing this. If the city guard was after this person, then they were likely a criminal. The blade they had been carrying was also a nasty piece of work. But Ulaz was a  _ healer _ , and he couldn’t allow someone to just die in his house when he could do something about it. If they later attacked him, he could turn them in to the city guard. He knew a good stunning spell or two.

“I  _ can _ heal you,” Ulaz said quickly. “But not entirely. At least, not right now. It will take time.”

The other person hissed, and Ulaz saw their jaw flex as they gritted their teeth. “Please,” they managed to say, and there wasn’t any hint of malice in their tone. Only pain.

Ulaz set straight to work. Such intensive healing wasn’t something he did that often—it was draining, both to himself and to his patients. He could remember being a small cub, and his bloodmother, Azmar, healing his scrapes and bruises. It always felt uncomfortable, like his scrapes were being stitched back together. He couldn’t even  _ begin _ to imagine what this person was feeling. 

Their mask was still in place, but he could see their jaw flexing as they must have gritted their teeth again. Ulaz wasn’t going to force them to remove their mask, especially not if he expected this stranger to trust him. As the healing continued, the stranger grew more and more exhausted, until they closed their eyes with a heavy sigh as Ulaz got back to his feet. He wasn’t worried now, because he had stopped the bleeding—so long as they didn’t move too much, and risk reopening the wound, Ulaz knew he could finish healing them later. The wound had been too deep fro him to do more than stop the bleeding at this stage, but with a few more sessions, they’d be able to move as normal again.

He wiped off his hands with a wet cloth, and then his eyes caught the glint of moonlight on the stranger’s blade, where it sat on the table. He glanced over his shoulder, but the stranger appeared to be sleeping, or close to it. Their eyes were still closed. Ulaz approached the blade and picked it up. Lightly, he ran his fingers along the dull face of it, following its curve. He wasn’t entirely sure what kind of metal it was. Briefly, he thought that perhaps it was…  _ luxite _ . But he just as quickly dismissed that idea. Luxite was far too rare of a metal to belong to some random rogue.

Whatever it was, the metal seemed to…  _ sing _ to him, and he felt the pull of the blade.

“Don’t touch that—”

Ulaz looked over his shoulder, but didn’t set the blade down. The stranger’s eyes glowed from the shadow of their hood, one of the brightest things in the near pitch black. However, they didn’t seem angry. Perhaps startled, but not angry.

“It’s…” the stranger trailed off, and seemed to think the better of finishing their thought.

Ulaz’s ears flicked curiously. “It’s?” he prompted.

The stranger hesitated again, and then turned away. And the conversation was over, it seemed. Ulaz didn’t try to push it, and gently set the blade to the side.

“If you need anything, or if anything starts hurting, I’ll be in the other room.”

The stranger half turned back, looking over their shoulder as they tilted their head to the side in a way that almost seemed… familiar. “Thanks,” they finally said. “For… healing me.”

“You’re welcome,” Ulaz said sincerely, before ducking back into his own room with the intent of getting some more sleep before another long day of healing.

—

The next few days, Ulaz kept the shop closed, only going downstairs when someone called for him. The guard had been leaving him alone, for the most part, far more interested in investigating the sudden death of Lord Prorok. Ulaz didn’t know the specifics—he just assumed that one of the man’s servants had done him in. When people  _ did _ come to bother Ulaz, and ask him why he wasn’t open, he tried to play it off as if he were coming down with something—if anyone doubted that a skilled healer could get sick, they didn’t let it show. Ulaz wasn’t in the mood to explain the intricacies of infection and sickness and how he wasn’t a miracle worker just because he happened to be a skilled medic. Physical wounds he could deal with using simple spells, but infection was a completely different thing. 

Thankfully, the stranger had been healing at a rapid rate with no signs of infection. One of the side effects of the intensive healing sessions was that the stranger slept a lot—which was one of the reasons Ulaz still didn’t even know his name. Ulaz wasn’t surprised by this, as he knew it could be incredibly painful and uncomfortable to undergo such rigorous healing, but it was for his own good.

As the stranger sharpened their blade in the middle of the living room, Ulaz stood at the table, trying to prepare a healing tonic, meant to stave off infection.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Ulaz said, not looking up from his work. His ears twitched at the sound of the sharpening stone moving over the blade. He wanted to say more. They had talked, on occasion, about mundane things. Ulaz didn’t want to intrude too much, even if it seemed like the stranger was very docile. That was the only reason he had given them the sharpening stone in the first place. They hadn’t shown any aggression except for when Ulaz had picked up their blade to give it a once over the first night.

“It’s made of a luxite,” the stranger said simply. “You recognized that, didn’t you?”

Ulaz nodded, feeling the stranger’s eyes burning into his back. “It… pulled me in,” he explained.

The stranger chuckled softly. “They tend to do that, yes.”

“Where did you get a luxite blade, if you don’t mind me asking?” Ulaz said, ears continuing to twitch as he looked over his shoulder. “You didn’t steal it, did you?”

“I haven’t stolen anything in my life,” the stranger retorted. “At least, not from people who didn’t deserve it.”

Now, it was Ulaz’s turn to laugh. “How noble,” he said as he turned back to the tonic. “Now, where did you get it?”

“It is the mark of my membership,” the stranger said by a way of explanation. “It will only shift for me. Every member of our order has one.”

Ulaz almost wanted to ask what  _ order _ this stranger was talking about, but he figured that he had already asked too much of the stranger—except perhaps… he could not keep mentally referring to this person as ‘stranger’ all the time, and he’d prefer to have a name to refer to them by. “Do you mind telling me your name?” he asked, pouring the tonic into a bottle. “I’d appreciate it if I were able to call you by one.”

The stranger looked up from his blade, blinking slowly. They hummed in amusement. “Thace,” he said, tilting his head to the side again as he chuckled softly. “And what is yours?”

“My name is Ulaz,” he said as he set down the bottle next to Thace, motioning to it with a jerk of his head. 

“Well, It’s nice to meet you, Ulaz,” Thace said, and he sounded sincere enough, even if Ulaz couldn’t make out his expression due to his mask. It was frustrating that he couldn’t see Thace’s face, but it was enough for now that he had managed to get a name out of his impromptu guest.

—

There was a soft mew above Ulaz’s head when he came upstairs from the shop a couple of days later. He glanced up into the rafters and spotted a small, fluffy, and very familiar looking cat sitting on one of the beams, tail swishing back and forth.

“So, you’re a shapeshifter too?” Ulaz asked. He only received another soft mew in return, and the cat—Thace—tilted his head to the side, ears flicking, and Ulaz allowed himself to smile. “As nice as it is that you’re feeling strong enough to shapeshift, can you please come down? If you fall you might injure yourself and we’d have to start all over again.”

Thace didn’t argue. Instead, he hopped down, landing on Ulaz’s shoulder before jumping to the floor and trotting over to the side of the room where the chair he had been living in for the last week sat. Ulaz had seen shapeshifters return to their physical form before, so he wasn’t surprised when Thace did so. Heavy bandaging was visible at his side, and he was still in his armor. Ulaz had no idea how shapeshifting worked, seeing as he was incapable of it, but it must have been handy to not need to constantly get redressed every single time one shifted back and forth.

“How is your side feeling?” Ulaz asked as he followed Thace. His hand was already glowing a bright gold, and he lightly touched Thace’s side over top of the bandages. It  _ felt _ like everything was in order as Ulaz delved into the wound using his magic, but without taking off the bandages he couldn’t be sure.

Up until this point, Thace had been very willing to do anything Ulaz asked of him in regards to healing, short of removing his mask and armor. Ulaz knew that it was… stupid of him to be so trusting, but he still felt like it would an invasion of privacy. Especially when Thace hadn’t done anything to suggest that he was untrustworthy yet… aside from breaking Ulaz’s window. Thace hadn’t complained outside of the occasional grimace of pain and insisting he was  _ fine _ whenever Ulaz asked during healing sessions.

“I’m fine,” Thace said. Ulaz picked up the slight shift of Thace’s ears as they brushed against the fabric of his hood. “A little sore, but I’m fine. Really.”

“Had I known you were a shapeshifter, I would have advised against shifting,” Ulaz said dryly as he drew his hand back. “Do you need something to eat before I get you a tonic?”

“I’ve told you that you don’t have to waste those on me—” Thace began.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ulaz said, waving him off. “It’s a tonic to ward off infection. Nobody ever comes to me for those.”

Thace hesitated for a moment, before he sighed and nodded.

“Now, do you want something to eat?” Ulaz offered as he moved over to the kitchen. It was too early to start dinner, but he knew that Thace wouldn’t touch the kitchen—for some reason, he wasn’t too keen on digging through Ulaz’s cabinets during the day and taking his food without permission.

“Yes, please,” Thace said, sinking into his seat.

Ulaz hummed, as he gathered up a couple of slices of bread and some preserves—the last of the polan fruit jam, which he had noticed Thace eyeing a few days ago. “I’ll be right back with that tonic. Feel free to start eating, though.”

Without waiting for a response, he ducked out of the room and headed back down into the shop to go through his tonic stores. As he looked over his herb stores, he noted that tomorrow he’d have to go out into the forest and try to find some more. He was dangerously low on Weblum’s Tongue, a pretty blue flower that was used in poison resistance tonics as well as aiding in driving back infection. He had used most of his stores making sure Thace’s wound didn’t turn before he could fully heal it. No amount of magic could get rid of an infection once it had started, so he’d have to resort to salves if it came to it, and that would result in a longer healing time. He plucked one of the last two bottles of the infection resistance tonic from his stores and then turned and went back upstairs. He made sure to knock on the door frame before entering, just in case Thace was still eating.

“You can come in, you know,” Thace called. “It’s  _ your _ house.”

When Ulaz did, however, he found that Thace still lacked his mask, even if he did have his hood up.

“Wait… you paid me ten times my asking price for stamina tonics,” Ulaz said, ears twitching in confusion as he frowned. Thace couldn’t have possibly known that he would be injured in the future, and if he  _ had _ , then he would have shown his face as soon as Ulaz had offered to heal him. 

“Yes,” Thace said. Judging by how his hood shifted, his ears were pinning back beneath it. “That guard took everything you had, and I had coin to spare. That’s all.”

Ulaz’s claws lightly tapped against the bottle he was holding in his hands. “Well… thank you,” he said before setting the bottle down beside Thace and nudging it to him. “My mothers would never forgive me if I didn’t return the favor.”

“You were returning the favor before you even knew who I was,” Thace scoffed.

Ulaz’s ears twitched in amusement. “Just drink the damn tonic.”

Thace smiled and did as he was told.

—

After that, they fell into something of a routine. During the day, Ulaz worked down in the shop—it didn’t matter that he was healing Thace, he still had taxes to pay. At his own insistence, Thace stayed upstairs, out of sight. Even though he had passed through town a couple of weeks before, and it was unlikely that any of Ulaz’s customers would recognize him, he didn’t want to be seen. Ulaz suspected it was because of the still visible bandaging, and people having a tendency to be nosy. While he was more than happy to answer some of Ulaz’s questions, Thace was a relatively private person for the most part.

He did seem to like talking about some of the places he had visited with his friends—the ones who were members of the ‘order’ he had mentioned back when he had first vaguely explained how he got his hands on a luxite blade. Thace had been all over the kingdom, it seemed, from the capital city of Daibazaal, all the way to some of the smaller, outlying cities. In exchange for some stories about his travels, Ulaz showed Thace some of the more mundane magic spells he had picked up from his bloodmother. He knew how to make projections out of light, and so some nights, the living area of his home was filled with small, fiery projections of the animals around Khal—from the smallest pyja to the huge weblum that was said to live up on top of the distant mountains. Thace was never able to tear his eyes away, watching the projections with a sense of cublike wonder, ears alert and eyes wide.

At the end of the week, Ulaz had to venture outside of town for the day to collect more plants, as his stores were running dangerously low. Thace had been sleeping when he checked on him in the morning, and so he had left without leaving more than a note. Even if Thace had offered to help, Ulaz would have insisted he could handle it on his own. He didn’t want Thace straining himself again if he didn’t have to. He spent most of the morning, continuing into the early afternoon, looking for some of the more common plants that were in the area—Weblum’s Tongue, chamomile, thyme, to name a few. With the slowly cooling weather, it was a bit more difficult to find some of the plants he needed. While he didn’t find everything, he was needed back home.

However, as he approached the walls of the town on his way home, he paused. A few new wanted posters had been hung up—and there was one that depicted Thace. Or at least, the resemblance was close enough that he was almost certain that it was supposed to be Thace. For a moment, he just stood there in shock, not really sure of what to make of it. He knew that Thace had likely been involved in some petty thievery—he had admitted to as much on multiple occasions—but the bounty on this poster  _ far _ exceeded one that would have been given to a petty thief. A second poster hung next to the first, depicting Thace as he appeared with his mask on, although there was no indication that anyone had realized they were the same person.

Hastily, Ulaz took the one that had Thace without his mask on, carefully tucking it into the basket that held all of the plants he had collected, before he continued on into town. When he returned home, Thace was reading through one of the few books he owned. His ears perked up when he heard Ulaz enter, but his gaze didn’t leave the book.

“Did you find everything you were looking for?” Thace asked casually—he was so mesmerized by what he was reading that he didn’t notice Ulaz’s unease.

“Yes, and then some,” Ulaz said as he pulled out the wanted poster and held it up for Thace to see. “Care to explain yourself?”

Thace looked up from the book, and his ears immediately pinned back. He opened his mouth, as if he were going to say something, but then caught his tongue, thinking better of it.

“You know, I don’t think they captured your ears right,” Ulaz commented, giving the poster a once over again. Then, his eyes narrowed into the makings of an unamused glare. “What in the Void did you do that warranted a  _ wanted poster _ with such a high bounty? What kind of felon am I harboring in my home?!”

“I… killed a local lord…” Thace admitted, averting his gaze. “Well,  _ one _ of them. Anyway, look—” As Thace continued speaking, his tone turned hasty, but he also appeared to be sincere. “If you want to turn me in, that’s fine. I wouldn’t blame you. That bounty could probably keep your shop running for a couple of years—”

Ulaz’s glare melted away into shock. “ _ You _ killed Lord Prorok?” Ulaz questioned, in complete and utter disbelief. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that Thace had been behind that. It had seemed far more likely that the culprit was a local.

“It wasn’t exactly hard?” Thace said, ears twitching nervously against the sides of his head. “He was kind of a buffoon, diplomatically speaking… and if I hadn’t done it, there were rumors that he’d be called to the capital and have to meet with High Priestess Haggar, which I’m sure you’re aware is a death sentence—” He cut off, seeming to have realized that he was rambling.

Ulaz let out an exasperated sigh. “Was that the night you  _ broke  _ my  _ window _ —”

Thace’s ears drew back and he looked a little sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. “… I’ll still pay for that.”

Even though he knew he should’ve said something—anything—Ulaz wasn’t sure what he  _ could _ say in this instance. He had always known that Thace was a criminal of some kind, but he had helped him anyway. It was not a choice that he regretted in the slightest, as he knew that if he had turned Thace in as soon as he had fallen through his window, then the guards would have thrown him into a cell to rot. Or turned him in for the bounty the first chance they got. However, Thace had had ample opportunity to rob Ulaz of everything he had, and even though he was nearly healed, he still hadn’t left. And he wasn’t attacking Ulaz now, even though he was strong enough to do so if he felt like it.

“Are you going to turn me in?” Thace asked. There was no hurt in his expression, only acceptance for his fate—and his statement about how there would be no hard feelings if Ulaz  _ did _ turn him in lingered in the back of Ulaz’s mind.

“No,” Ulaz finally said, and Thace’s ears gave a surprised flick at that. “I just want to know  _ why _ you did what you did, and who you’re affiliated with.”

“Fair enough, I owe you that much since you’ve taken care of me,” Thace said, nodding slowly. “I am a member of the Blade of Marmora.”

Ulaz frowned, unconvinced. “The assassin’s guild?”

“The very same,” Thace said, tilting his head to the side as he smiled easily. “Although, just to be clear, it is  _ not _ an assassin’s guild—not entirely. Surely you’ve heard whispers of the Emperor being overthrown?”

“From the time I was a cub, yes,” Ulaz said. His mothers had often whispered about it, not realizing that he was listening. They had always warned him not to speak ill of the Emperor, and when they had been called out onto the battlefield in service of him, they had told Ulaz to keep his head down. To not involve himself with people like… well, like Thace. It was more an attempt to keep him safe and out of harm’s way, even if he knew that Azmar and Ulmirak wanted Emperor Zarkon gone as much as any other commoner did.

“Have you ever thought of rising up to join the cause?” Thace asked. His expression grew serious, ears drawing back, and his head remained tilted. “I was sent to assassinate Lord Prorok because he was a supporter of Emperor Zarkon, and  _ without _ his support, the Emperor will be weakened. I should actually be leaving soon, so that I can inform my superiors that I have accomplished my mission.”

“I’m coming with you,” Ulaz said immediately, trying not to snort at the surprised look that appeared on Thace’s face. “You still need healing, and if this message is that important, then you should leave sooner, rather than later.”

Thace’s ears twitched in amusement. “I’m assuming you know how to fight?”

Ulaz raised his hand and magic thrummed at his fingertips as four small, purple, dart-like projectiles appeared. One of the darts shot forward, embedding itself in the wood beside Thace’s head with a sharp  _ thunk _ . Thace’s eyes widened a fraction as he glanced to the side, though he seemed impressed.

“I think I can handle myself pretty well,” Ulaz said, as the darts faded into mist.

“And I think you’ll fit right in,” Thace agreed.

It was a couple of days later when they left the city—Ulaz didn’t bother telling anyone where he was going. They would have tried to convince him to stay. There was nothing holding him there anymore except for nostalgia. While he made sure to take some of his mothers’ more important trinkets, he knew that they would have encouraged him to go on the adventure. So, he packed what he could in a bag, and said goodbye to the only home he had ever known.

After shifting into a cat, Thace trotted along a couple of paces ahead of Ulaz. Nobody paid a fluffy cat any mind, completely unaware that he was a wanted criminal with a sizeable bounty on his head. Ulaz found the whole situation rather amusing actually, as a guardsman they met said absolutely nothing about Thace, even though his ear markings were pretty distinct. It must not have been known that the wanted criminal was a shapeshifter. Only once they were out of sight of the city wall did Thace shift back. He was already prepared to continue walking, since they had a lot of distance to cover before nightfall, and getting to the next closest city would take nearly three days’ journey on foot. However, Ulaz lingered, staring back over his shoulder to the crest of the hill they had just come down. 

“Ulaz?” Thace asked. “Are you coming?”

“Yes,” Ulaz assured him quickly, turning away from the city. “I’m fine. Now let’s go.” Even if he had to leave, if it meant he could help bring down the Emperor, he was more than willing to make some sacrifices along the way.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: [revasnaslan](http://revasnaslan.tumblr.com/)  
> twitter: [revasnaslan](https://twitter.com/revasnaslan)  
> pillowfort: [revasnaslan](https://www.pillowfort.io/revasnaslan)


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